


His Last Case

by nicodiver



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Afghanistan, Angst, Asexual!Sherlock, Boys' Love, Drama, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Heartbreak, Heartbreaking, Heartwarming, Johnlock - Freeform, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Panic Attack, Sorrow, Travel, War, fluff all the way, fluffy!John, fluffy!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicodiver/pseuds/nicodiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected letter puts John's and Sherlock's relationship at stake, both for better and worse. JohnLock + angst</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Last Case

Sherlock and John were sitting at the table eating their morning biscuits while John was reading the newspaper.

"Sherlock, have you heard about the increased crisis down in Afghanistan?" John mumbled as he was reading the article. He continued reading the article for a while until he was finished.

"No I haven't." the detective replied shortly as he ate a tiny bit of his biscuit. 

John suddenly sighed as a thought struck his mind.

"A friend of mine just got sent back and the continued problems in Afghanistan might mean that I may go back there as well," he said as he folded the newspaper. He looked at Sherlock with a sad look on his face.

"Reassigned?" Sherlock asked. "Why would you be reassigned? You have been discharged because of your wound, haven't you?" the consulting detective asked with a frown and looked at John with a questionable glance.

"I have though I can be called to duty again. I got discharged because of my bullet wound and my limp and both of them are healed by now, or at least as healed as they'll ever be." John said with a slight smile, recalling how Sherlock had helped ease the ache of both his literal and figurative wounds, though his eyes still held an air of concern.

"Try not to think about it John. I am sure you won't be called to duty again. You have your life as a detective's assistance and blogger now. They can't take that away from you," Sherlock said with a slight smile on his lips and gave John's shoulder a soft pat before he went to the fridge to look over some of Scotland Yard's victim's body parts.

John drew his hand across his face and sighed deeply. What would happen if he _was_ called to duty again? What would happen with Sherlock? Would the man even survive without him? He couldn't even remember to feed himself half the time! John did not know and it worried him immensely.

A few days passed by and everything went on normally with cases and awkward meetings with Molly and people that needed their help. One day though, the normal life of Sherlock and John changed when John received a particular looking letter with the mail.

Sherlock was away alone on an easy case (which the man had said himself) and he had told John to stay at home which John had obeyed without question. When Sherlock said he wanted to be alone, he _really_ wanted to be alone.

John saw the mail-man through the peep-hole on the door. He moved away when the mail dumped down on the floor by his feet. John bowed down, picked up the mail and walked to the kitchen while quickly sorting through the different kind of postage.

His heart beat raced when he saw the familiar envelope and text-font in his weathered hands. It was marked with his name and his new address. A big stamp of the military emblem was stamped in the right corner of the letter.  
John opened it with express care and took out a thin, folded paper. He went to the living room and sat down on his couch before slowly opening the folded paper with trembling fingers.

_John Hamish Watson_

_You have been called to join the reinforcements troops to fight the war in Afghanistan. You will depart from the London military airfield Monday 26 March 2012. You will receive your clothes and other supplies when you arrive at the destination._

John stared at the words written on the letter. He folded the paper and put it down on the table, then he just stared off into the distance.

_One week left_

He couldn't believe it. He couldn't actually believe that he was going to Afghanistan again, that he was going to be engulfed into blood, gunpowder and anguish screams again. He was going back to the battlefield and nothing in the world could stop him from going there. He was more concerned about Sherlock's reaction though. He liked the war but how would Sherlock handle that fact that John was going to leave him?

Sherlock came home a couple of hours later. John managed to sneak some bits of food into the detective. They ate in silence and soon enough John went to bed with millions thoughts of Afghanistan haunting his dreams.

* * *

The next day, a stranger called early around 6 AM telling them he needed their help and that he was waiting for them in Croydon. John struggled with getting up from his bed. His leg had started hurting again because of the stress going round his system and it made it hard for him to move properly. He finally managed to get out of his bed after a couple of minutes and he limped down the stairs to the kitchen. Sherlock had already dressed himself and he was standing fully clothed in the kitchen with his light green gaze locked on John.

John gave him a strained smile before quickly limping to the fridge to get a quick breakfast. He scarfed down a toffee flavoured yoghurt before he limped upstairs and brushed his teeth. Then he went downstairs again and put on his usual jacket.

Sherlock gave him an impatient look.

"Are you finished yet?" he asked petulantly with a glare.

John frowned.

"Yes yes. Soon enough." John replied and looked around the apartment for his cane.

"Sherlock do you know where my cane is?" he asked when he had searched the flat two times. John could hear the man sighing with his whole being.

"NO. PLEASE. Can we just GO?" Sherlock asked irritated. His patience had run out and he really wanted to go _now_.

"But Sherlock." John sighed. "I need my cane."

"Why do you need it so suddenly? You were just fine without it." Sherlock sighed. He stomped his foot impatiently on the floor with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I have started limping again, okay. Just find it for me. Please." John said and exhaustingly sank down on the couch with a sigh.

Sherlock sighed as well and ran around the flat. He came back in an instant with the cane in his hands.

"Here you go." he said and handed it over to John.

John gripped it appreciatively with a slight nod.

"Thanks." he said and raised himself from the couch.

"Can we go now?" Sherlock asked and John nodded.

"Of course." he said and the two men went out of the flat and to the main street.

* * *

"Thank you. Thank you so much for coming." an old man with a runny nose said to them when they arrived. The man shook their both hands with his grey mittens.

"So what can we help you with?" Sherlock asked while looking around the place for something interesting.

"My son Peter is gone. He went away yesterday to pluck some blueberries out in the forest but he never returned and now I'm worried about him." the old man said. He went to the kitchen to make some tea for them.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose in annoyance and stared at the man's neck before looking at John.

"He called _us_ to get help with a missing person? You contact the police for things like that, not a private detective!" the detective hissed between his teeth. He clenched his right fist in anger.

"Easy Sherlock. He is just an old man. He is just very concerned about his son and not sure what the best thing to do is." John said easily, trying to calm his flatmate.

" _Everyone_ knows how to contact the police John." Sherlock growled irritatingly and stared at the man's neck. It was almost like he wanted to break it.

"Maybe he doesn't. Just let it be Sherlock. Be happy that we have something to do instead of just sitting at home." John said easily and Sherlock seemed to calm down a little.

The old man finished making tea and turned around and put down a tray with the tea and three cups on the table.

"Thank you." John said thankfully and took one of the cup's and filled it with milk. Sherlock took a cup as well and put three sugar cubes into his tea. The old man drank his tea as it was.

"So...Uhm...James was it? Could you tell us some more about your son? Like what time he went out into the forest and similar things." John asked the man. The man nodded.

"Of course." he said softly and told them about his son and what he looked like and which time he went out in the forest etcetera, etcetera. Sherlock didn't bother to listen very well.

"Okay, then we will go out and search for him." John said after about twenty moment of undisturbed chatter.

Sherlock let out a low sound of relief before they finally went out in the woods to search for Peter.

* * *

"So John... Would you like to tell me what you are hiding from me?" Sherlock asked when they were back at 221B. Three or four hours had passed before they came home. Luckily, they had found Peter after two hours of searching. He was sitting inside a small cave in front of a fire he had made himself. He had lost his compass and that was why he had gone missing.

John ate bits of his noodles before answering with a slight frown on his face.

"Hiding something? I am not hiding anything from you Sherlock." he replied slowly and put the takeaway box with noodles and chicken down on the table.

"John. You know you can't hide anything from me." Sherlock said with a determined gaze and put his hands together in a prayer-like gesture.

John almost choked on his noodles when Sherlock gave him that intense stare.

"Do you really want me to tell you the truth?" John asked slowly, imaging an incoming heartbreak and an outburst of anger, though it was unavoidable since he was going to leave in a week and he needed to tell Sherlock anyway.

"I do John." Sherlock said shortly and stared harshly at John.

"Okay then." John replied with a sigh. " I am going back to Afghanistan."

At first, Sherlock was just looking at him with his regular sharp gaze then his face morphed into something that could be called as "sad" or "dismay".

"You are going to do _what_?" Sherlock asked with his voice a bit shaky.

"I am going back to Afghanistan. I received a letter yesterday telling me that I've been called to duty again. I have one week left here before I go." John said, his voice raspy.

Sherlock remained silent with his eyes locked on John. John could almost hear the cogwheels in Sherlock's mind spinning at high speed.

"Are you going to say anything?" John asked after a couple of minutes. He wanted to know how Sherlock was feeling in the moment.

"Well... I... I do not know what to say. I am in shock. I think I need a blanket." Sherlock said with a hoarse voice and anxiously got up from the sofa.

John thought he could see tears glistening in the corners of Sherlock's eyes.

"Sherlock wait. Where are you going?" John asked while instinctively stretching out his hand to catch Sherlock's arm. Sherlock turned around to John and gave him a miserable look.

"I don't know what my feelings are doing." he said with a worried voice and nervously swallowed a couple of times. The tears in his eyes ran over and wetted his cheeks.

John's heart started aching at seeing the emotional confused man in front of him.

"Come here Sherlock." John said and moved himself over on the couch and patted the now empty place beside him, not entirely knowing what he should do.

Sherlock immediately sat down beside John and John put his arms around the lanky man in a comforting manner. Sherlock put his arms around John's body and leaned his head on John's neck, his tears wetting the army doctor's neck.

"Why? Why do you have to go? You're the only man in the whole world that understands me. The only one that doesn't judge me. The only one that sees me for who I truly am. You are my best friend and the _only_ friend I have ever had. I don't even know if I will be able to survive without you." Sherlock whispered almost too fast for John to hear what he was saying.

"I feel the same way about you Sherlock. You were the best thing that has ever happened to me..." John whispered gloomily while stroking Sherlock's chocolate brown, curly hair. "But I have to go. It is my duty. I can't even believe it myself but I have to go. They need me down there." he added.

Sherlock sobbed out and tightened his grip around John into a desperate one.

"Please don't go. Please." the detective whispered panicked over and over again between his sobs.

"I must go." John whispered and almost rocked Sherlock in his arms. "It will be all right. You will be all right." he tried to comfort the other man but Sherlock kept weeping until they fell asleep from exhaustion, their emotions draining all the energy from their trembling bodies. The sun touched the floor with its rays when they were sleeping soundly, announcing that it was only five days left until John would depart.

* * *

With every day that passed, Sherlock tried every little thing he could think of to make John stay. He made John's favourite tea, he bought John's favourite jam and favourite biscuits, he helped John with finding possible girlfriends the army doctor could date but John refrained from doing so. Sherlock had even started to act happier and more human when he was around John but nothing could stop John from going to Afghanistan since it was his duty.

"Sherlock it is no use for you to do this." John said as he entered the decorated living room. Sherlock had spruced it up with some different coloured flowers and colourful curtains. He had even moved his skull and placed an aquarium filled with neon tetras and guppies there instead.

"Why not? I thought our place needed more colour." Sherlock said and smiled at John while stepping down from the stool he had been standing on. Apparently, he had just changed the curtains. "I have made a cup of tea for you, it is on the kitchen table." he added and walked towards John to give him a hug. It had become a daily routine now, Sherlock hugging John.

Sherlock embraced John with his long arms the hug getting a bit tighter than expected.

"Thank you Sherlock." John said. It was almost the only thing he said these days. Sherlock released him and John went to the kitchen and drank his tea.

"What would you like to do this evening John?" Sherlock asked as he sat down beside John.

"Are we going to a case as usual?" John asked and took a sip of the well-tasting tea.

"No, I told Lestrade we are booked tonight. That was why I was wondering what you would like to do." Sherlock explained and looked at John's hand resting on the table.

"I don't know what I would like to do Sherlock. I guess I just want to enjoy my last days here at 221B." John replied and drank the last drops of his tea before looking at Sherlock's big hand resting on the table. The two men turned their gazes from their hands and into each other's eyes.

"Last days? You are not exactly going to die down in Afghanistan and I will do anything in my power to make you stay. So, back to the question. What would you like to do tonight John?" Sherlock asked and moved his hand closer to John's.

"I don't know." he replied and looked at the calendar that was pinned to the wall next to the refrigerator. This was his last night with Sherlock. A week went by so fast... "You figure something out." he added.

Sherlock pondered for a minute before answering.  
"Would you like to go to Tierra Brindisa?"

"Is that the restaurant we were at the first day we met?" John asked and Sherlock gave him a confirming nod.

"Yes exactly." Sherlock said with a smile.

"Why not?" John said softly and the two men went to the restaurant without any doubt.

* * *

John and Sherlock sat down at the exact table they had been at two years ago when they were going to look after the cabbie. Angelo came walking with a smiling face with a menu and a tea light in his hands. He handed out the menus and put the tea light in the middle of the table and lit it.

"Your food is on the house." Angelo said when the two flatmates ordered their meals before walking away with the menus.

"I think this is the first time we have been out on a restaurant like this, and you have ordered a meal." John said with a frown and gave Sherlock a teasing look. Sherlock smiled at him and nodded.

"Indeed it is." he said and looked at the table before putting his hand on the middle of it beside the candle. John gave his hand a confused look before he understood what he meant. John's cheeks flushed a little when he laid his hand over Sherlock and touched Sherlock's bony but still soft knuckles. Sherlock smiled at him and John could for the first time see a hint of warmth in Sherlock's eyes. It made his insides break off into a blissful dance.

"What did you order?" John asked to break the slight awkwardness that was between the two men.

"I ordered Angelo's special dish: planked steak. It consist of mashed potatoes, fried steaks and grilled tomatoes covered with béarnaise sauce served on a plank." Sherlock explained and John licked his lips. It sounded tasty.  
"What did you order?" Sherlock asked John.

"Pasta carbonara. Very simple but very tasty." John said and stroked Sherlock's hand softly.

After a while John asked:

"I thought you weren't interested in food Sherlock. How come you are now?"

"I don't know. It just came naturally for me and I do find food a bit interesting." Sherlock replied and enveloped his hand around John's.

John smiled at his action and nodded for an answer. Angelo came by and served them their food and they ate in silence.

When they had finished eating Sherlock moved closer to John. Instead of sitting on the opposite of John he moved beside him instead. John looked at Sherlock and wondered if the man had become infatuated with him. He also wondered how that was even possible. Sherlock in love with someone.

"John..." Sherlock murmured; his voice only a whisper. John nodded and licked his lips nervously.

"Yes Sherlock?" he asked.

Sherlock smiled at him and put his arms around him.

"You are marvellous." Sherlock whispered close to John's ear as he hugged him. John chuckled softly and hugged him back. "You are a brilliant man Sherlock." he replied. Sherlock chuckled as well and they stopped hugging after a while.

"Let's catch a cab and go home." Sherlock said and John nodded.

* * *

Sherlock caught John's hands again as they were sitting beside each other in the couch with one lit candle standing on the coffee table. John looked at him with a soft gaze and smiled slightly.

"You are leaving me tomorrow." Sherlock said slowly with his eyes resting at the shape of John's hands around his.

"I am." John said sadly feeling his throat becoming tight.

"I don't want you to John. I don't want you to leave me." Sherlock whispered; his voice as thick as John's.

"I know Sherlock, I know..." John murmured and looked at Sherlock's peculiar face. He looked at the sharp cheekbones, the curly locks, the light green eyes and masculine chin. Everything he saw identified the man he knew as Sherlock. He couldn't resist but touch the inviting cheekbones. Sherlock smiled at his action and closed his eyes when John stroked the cheekbones with his index finger.

After a while, Sherlock suddenly gripped John's index finger with his hand and kissed John's five fingers before moving himself closer to his army doctor.

"John..." he said with his usual baritone voice but with a more deeper meaning.

"Yes?" John whispered softly while cocking one of his eyebrows softly.

"I don't know if this is the right moment or if this is even the way I feel about you, but I feel a desperate need of saying it. I love you. I love you deeply John." Sherlock said softly and held John's hand tighter in his.

John let every word seep into his soul and he didn't let himself think about them, he just simply accepted them.

Without any doubt he opened his mouth and said the most obvious thing he could say. He had known it for two years.

"I love you too Sherlock. I love you from the bottom of my heart."

Sherlock drew John close to his body and hugged him tightly.

John could hear Sherlock's heart beat steady as he tugged him closer.

Sherlock put his head on John's head and held him close to his chest.

"I will miss you so much..." John murmured as he felt Sherlock's warm body against his. Sherlock just held John in his arms without answering and rocked John smoothly in the same rhythm as his own heartbeat.

"I will miss you too..." Sherlock murmured after a while, still rocking John to his heartbeat.

John looked at him for a moment before leaning in to his face, giving Sherlock his first kiss. Sherlock eyelids fluttered and he closed them while John put his arms around Sherlock's neck, drawing him closer. Sherlock kissed him tentatively and experimentally, still a bit clumsy. John let Sherlock explore his mouth a while before he kissed him deeply. Sherlock moaned slightly in John's mouth, not quite sure where that sound came from or what it meant but he let his body speak instead of his mind. John pushed himself closer against Sherlock and Sherlock did the same. The continued to kiss tenderly before they finally broke the kiss to breathe. They caught their breath a second before cuddling close again. Sherlock laid down on the couch in a more comfortable position with John lying with his head on Sherlock's chest. Sherlock drew his long fingers through John's hair.

"That was the best kiss I ever had." Sherlock murmured softly. "The only one I ever had." he added with a chuckle. John joined him with chuckling and they started giggling until they were out of breath.

Sherlock started massaging John's scalp and John yawned loudly and closed his eyes, feeling more comfortable and relaxed than ever. Sadly everything wonderful John knew would end by dawn. John turned his head and looked at an upside-down Sherlock.

"I'm so glad we could spend this last evening together." John murmured as he started stroking Sherlock's cheekbones once again.

"I'm glad too." Sherlock murmured softly, his cheeks a bit warm.

"I love you." John whispered to the detective, enjoying the warmth of the words flowing out of his mouth as easily as a breeze. Sherlock's eyes lit up.

"I love you too." Sherlock murmured as a reply, leaning down and kissed John's lips. John kissed him back and stroked Sherlock's ear smoothly. They held their kiss and the moment between them in their hands like a fragile tiny little bird, careful to not hurt it.

* * *

John woke up with a jerk by his blaring alarm clock reminding him that he was going to Afghanistan today. He rubbed his eyes and quickly got off the bed. He looked over his small bag and then he went to the bathroom to shower, shave his stubble and brush his teeth. When he was ready with preparing himself he went down to the kitchen and saw a note lying on the kitchen table. It was adorned with Sherlock's sloppy handwriting. John read it through carefully.

 _Good morning John. I hope you slept well even though we fell asleep in our sofa. I do not remember if I carried you to your bed or if it was you that carried me to mine, but anyway, I am really glad we could share this evening together. I am glad we finally revealed our feelings for each other even though I am still a bit confused about this whole relationship thing. But I want you to know that even though I am confused and new to this kind of thing, I still want you to know that I love you and will always, whatever happens to us.  
You are probably wondering where I am by now, well, let's just say Lestrade called me over. He actually did. I will be in time at the airport to say goodbye __though. No worries. -_ SH

John nodded at the note and put it in his pocket though there was one thing that bothered him.

_Whatever happens to us._

John knew what was going to happen to **him** but nothing was going to happen to Sherlock, right? He started getting worried but decided to let it be until he was at the airport. John glanced at the clock and realized he needed to hurry to be in time for the air plane. He went out to the main street and took the nearest taxi to the military airport.

* * *

John hurried his way through the thick crowd of military dressed anxiously waiting people. He guessed they were going to Afghanistan as well and the thought bothered him a little. He did not know why it did, it just did.

John looked around the hall to see where he was going. He saw a sign saying:  
"SIGN UP HERE". He went over there and stood in queue for a while before it was his turn.

"Who are you? May I see your badge?" the short-haired man in the reception asked John politely. John nodded and put his hand into his pocket and took out his badge and showed it to the man. The man gave it one single look, then he turned his gaze down to the list with names and searched for John's name.

"You can go home, you got replaced by another man a couple of hours ago." the man in the reception said slowly.

John's heart skipped a beat when the man said "replaced".

"Replaced by whom?" John asked, his voice panic stricken. He looked around the hall and saw the one thing he feared the most. A curly chocolate brown head with a long dark blue coat in the last of the line.

The man looked at the list again and squinted his eyes.

"Sherlock Holmes." the man said.

John's heart almost stopped when he heard the name uttering from the man's lips. John's legs started trembling as the queue with people started moving into the plane. He started running towards the queue but the security guards stopped him without question. John screamed out Sherlock's name as he saw Sherlock boarding the plane. Sherlock heard someone calling his name and he glanced over his shoulder just to see a terrified John looking back at him.

" _Farewell John._ " he thought sorrowfully as the door closed behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Hugesish for proofing this for me and thank you Erik for the idea! 
> 
> This is purely fiction and I don't mean any harm to the real army or whatsoever.


End file.
